


Pandora’s Demon

by prophetor



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Brother Feels, Brotherly Love, Gen, Giving these two the angst they deserve, Identity Issues, Lucifer feeling bad, Mental Health Issues, Not Incest, Satan breaking down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25409617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prophetor/pseuds/prophetor
Summary: Satan will always be the defected offspring of Lucifer, and it’s a bitter pill to swallow._______I headcanon Satan has identity issues regarding who he is as a person y’know. And Lucifer wants to be the cool older brother and comfort Satan but can’t because he’s the reason Satan feels like that. A dilemma indeed.
Relationships: Lucifer & Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 80





	Pandora’s Demon

It didn’t feel right tonight.

Either Satan’s had too little sleep or too much coffee or a mix of both, he doesn’t know. His brain feels fuzzy and his limbs feel like they’ve cemented themselves into the chair. His book feels weird against his fingertips, the dim lighting from his desk seems too harsh.

Something was off, and Satan didn’t know what it was.

Or at least, tried to pretend like he didn’t. Convincing his mind that everything was okay seemed like a simpler task than acknowledging why he feels like shit. 

He’s made it known that he hates being a part of Lucifer, that much is evident. But the rest don’t know how much it makes his skin crawl, his eyes ache, his tongue dry.

Maybe he needs a glass of water.

Yeah, that’s it. Satan was dehydrated so Satan was feeling gross. He repeated the statement in his mind as he made his way to the kitchen. Hopefully Beel wasn’t there, the last thing he could be able to handle was social interaction.

Thankfully, the kitchen was empty of any demon. Only the slight hum of the refrigerator could be heard as he went to go get a cup. Maybe he should make some tea? No, too much work. Satan doesn’t even know if he has the mental capacity to make tea right now.

The cup started to fill with cool water, it felt nice at the palm of his hand. Something to focus on besides the static he feels in his mind.

But that’s not to say Satan was overthinking. It was quite the opposite actually, he doesn’t think he’s a had single thought in the past hour. At least not one that could make sense. Satan knows what it means, knows what is coming. But doesn’t let it happen. Not here, not now.

He makes his way back to his room surprisingly, and without dropping the glass. He would consider it a success in his book if he could even register it in his mind. 

The slight click of the doorknob fills his room and he sits on the floor, right beside unorganized leafs of paper and whatever project he was currently working on. Satan leans against a pile of dusty books as he puts the water down beside him. Closing his eyes, he desperately trying to contain whatever is starting to stir up.

And, to no ones surprise, well at least not to his...it doesn’t work.

Satan regrets sitting by his mirror at a time like this, because his face is all he manages to look at. The way his face looks exactly like the one person he doesn’t want to be.

He looks at his reflection and sees red eyes staring right back. He blinks, they’re blue. He blinks again, they’ve somehow turned back to red. 

Satan will always be the defected offspring of Lucifer, and it’s a bitter pill to swallow.

Satan laughs, it’s a dry chuckle, as he thinks about what sin he’s taken on. Wrath? How could he be wrath if he feels so fucking hollow every second of the day? The anger that rises in him doesn’t even seem real. It feels superficial, programmed even.

He hates living like this. Hates living with the fact that he didn’t know how to love, how to care, how to hold something and not want to let go. That he wasn’t made for such innocent happiness. Satan didn’t feel like he fell from grace, he wasn’t even made for it in the first place.

He doesn’t know what hurts more, the fact that he wasn’t made from love like the rest of his brothers were, or the fact that his whole being is the embodiment of everything ugly and hateful.

So, Satan acts on what’s cemented in his bones. He screams, he sobs, he breaks his chair, shreds the paper on his desk, pulls his hair out until he swears his scalp is bleeding.

He looks back at his mirror and still sees red.

________________

Lucifer was woken up by a bang.

He jumped out of his sheets and made his way to the door. Curled horns already standing tall, unaffected by the mess of his bedhead. 

Until he hears it, a scream.

Lucifer’s hand freezes at the doorknob and slightly starts to shake. It’s one of those nights.

He knows what’s going on in Satan’s room, he hears it in the way his sobs sound worn out.

His horns have disappeared now, two hands gripping on hair replacing them. Lucifer sits down on the ground, his back facing the door.

He hates these nights. He hates that he can’t just go into Satan’s room and relax him, can’t comfort him, can’t be the good older brother he wishes to be.

Lucifer hates that he’s the one who made Satan.

He wouldn’t trade him for the world, that’s not what he’s implying. But he knows the reason Satan has these nights is because he doesn’t feel like he’s a person, let alone someone that deserves love.

So Lucifer cries, he cries for Satan. He lets the tears fall silently as he hears his brother destroy his room and himself.

He manages to whisper out through shallow breaths:

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks again for reading this, it’s kinda all over the place but what do you expect from 3 am writing. Also I’ve based Satan’s episode off of my personal experiences, I don’t really know how to write breakdowns. As always feedback and criticism is welcome! 
> 
> @dazasmu on twitter


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